A Man Can Die But Once
by Taren Riley
Summary: Four brothers come to town to pick up the stuff their father left them after he died only to become suspects for their uncle's untimely murder.
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer: Well, there's not much to disclaim. None of the characters are Louis', they're all mine but he is my inspiration.**

**Chapter 1**

**_In which the Jackson Brothers come to _Black Jack**

_**and find their Uncle**_

For the brief moments between the moon's set and the sun's rise the world was silent, grey, and empty. It was just a little cool in that usually hot Colorado desert and a man had to tighten his bandana and pull down his hat against the slight chill. Someone not accustomed to this country would be tempted to take a sip of water to sooth his suddenly dry lips and swollen tongue.

The four riders that topped the ridge almost at the same instant the sun did resisted this temptation, knowing that they would need the water later on when the sun was at its peek.

They rode single file, for the trail was narrow and, though their horses were all mountain bred, there was always the danger that one could stumble on a loose stone.

The first man rode a big black gelding. He was a dark man with bronzed skin and dark brown hair. He was tall, taller than the others in his group. He had a lean body, like that of a jungle cat, and his face and attitude showed absolutely no emotion though one could almost sense the uncontrollable passion hidden just beneath the surface. Only his large green eyes moved, roaming the surrounding terrain. Jonathan Jackson was a strong, silent man, and hell-on-wheels with a gun. He wore two .44 peacemakers low on his hips and an old Winchester rested in his saddle boot. He was mysterious and deadly.

Sean Jackson was not as tall as his brother, but much broader in the chest and shoulders. He had sun-bleached hair that had once been sandy brown. He reminded one of a big grizzly bear. He only carried one gun, a Manchester 73, which he held across his saddle bow. He had big hands and thick arms and legs. He was a brawler and, like Johnny, didn't talk much. His big palomino was just like him, slow and stocky, but a good, solid horse.

Giovanni and Ian Jackson made up for their brothers' silent natures by being quite talkative. While Ian was very outward and friendly, Van was obnoxious and sarcastic. And while Johnny and Sean had spent the better part of their life roaming the western deserts and mountains, Van and Ian had grown up in the east becoming very different men than their brothers.

Van was easily the handsomest Jackson brother. He had wavy black hair and grey eyes so light they were almost silver. He had attended the best possible schools and knew almost everything there was to know about everything. He also took advantage of the luxury he lived in and could never shake the habit of wearing the finest and most expensive clothes, or using the best gear, and riding the finest horse. Johnny had spoken to him about it, but he insisted on riding a full white horse, something wise men never did in the west. He also had a flashy pair of Colts, but they were mainly just for show.

Ian Jackson was hot headed and feisty and had never liked school much. He had flaming red hair and never wore anything that wasn't checkered or brightly colored. His horse was a large, clumsy red dun which was even less useful than Van's white horse, but Ian liked him. Ian, like Van, was showy with his guns, but he could still shoot fairly well when the need came for it. Most of the time, however, he would get too excited and botch everything up. He was the youngest of the four but a great kid to have around when you were in trouble.

The Jackson brothers were the sons of Buck Jackson. Buck had come to New York City to get out of the western life for a while and had met and fallen in love with one of the city's prettiest, and also wealthiest, girls. Buck Jackson and Angela Moraine were married not four months after his arrival, after which he promptly swept her back out west to his ranch in Colorado.

It had not been at all like she'd expected, but Angela was willing to have a go at ranch life. But after seven years and four boys, she had developed a terrible hatred for the west. When Ian was scarcely a month old Angela packed up herself and the boys and went strait back to New York. Her family welcomed her back with open arms, saying she had been a foolish girl to just up and run off the way she did and that she could now take proper care of herself and her sons.

Buck never forgot Angela Moraine, but he never went after her either. He told himself it was because he loved her too much to put her through the misery she'd obviously been suffering, but it was more than that. His pride had been hurt as well as his heart, but it had taken years for both to heal.

At first the city life excited the two oldest Jackson boys. But they soon began to miss the west. And after a few years of the harsh boarding school their mother shipped them off to, they decided they were not cut out to be "gentlemen" as their mother put it. When they were 12 and 13 they ran away from the boarding school, stowed away on the first train out west and before their mother even got word of their disappearance, they'd already reached Independence, Missouri.

She tried to find them and even forced herself to write their father. She never saw Johnny or Sean again. She died the year Ian turned 16, and it was he who had the idea of going west to look for their brothers. Van refused saying he had to finish his schooling. Ian let it rest but as soon as he graduated began pestering him again. At last Van had given in. The poor boys stood out like polka dots on plaid and it wasn't long before Sean and Johnny heard about them. They'd found them wandering around in the Texas panhandle and they had stayed together ever since.

That had been a few years ago now, and the four brothers had been pretty much on the roam, working in a mine here, on a ranch there. At the moment they were on their way to a small town somewhere in Colorado. A week before a letter telling about their dearly departed father had finally found them. It said that Buck Jackson had left them his ranch and they'd better hurry up and claim it. The brothers thought it would be an interesting venture and started out quite excited. After six days of hard riding, however, all four were beginning to feel the strains of the journey.

Just as his horse came over yet another ridge, Johnny pulled up to a halt. Sean drew up beside him, but Van had been looking behind him at Ian and almost ran into them. "What's the idea?" he barked, jerking on the reins to stop his horse just in time.

"See somethin', Johnny?" Ian asked coming along side him.

"Not yet," his brother replied. "But I think Black Jack's about ten miles over there somewhere," Slowly and methodically he pulled out some binoculars and looked out across the desert.

"Can you see it?" Johnny didn't even seem to hear Sean. He simply handed the glasses to him and started his horse again. After taking a short look, Sean handed them to Ian who in turn gave them to Van before taking off after their brother.

Van scoffed at the bulky glasses thinking how could he see something seven miles away. He took a look anyway and about fell off his horse. A cluster of buildings could just be seen in the distance. Even now Van was still getting used the west and had forgotten that you could see and hear a lot further out here; something about the air being clearer or something. He waited only a second before starting his horse again.

"If we're so close," he called after Johnny, "how come you got us up at," he consulted his gold pocket watch, "four o'clock in the morning?" When no one answered Van took up his reins and started after his brothers with a huff. It was only a few moments later when he rounded the next bend to find them gathered around something on the ground, their horses, forgotten for the moment, standing idly searching for something to eat. When he drew nearer he was able to distinguish what it was that had caught his brothers' attention.

A big man, probably even taller than Johnny's six foot three, was lying face up on the ground, four bullet holes glaring up at them, two in his body and two in his head. "Good Lord," Van whispered. "Who would do a thing like this?" The other three ignored him. He still believed that the white man was a civilized human being.

"I wonder who it is," said Ian. Johnny and Sean carefully turned the body over to examine him. The man was good looking with dark brown hair and a thin mustache. His eyes, which stared lifelessly up at them were a pale blue, almost gray. His hands were large and calloused despite the store-bought clothes he wore. The tracks of a large horse led away down the trail towards the town. His hat, a nice black leather one, lay a few feet away and was covered with dust.

"I wonder how long he's been here," said Sean. Everyone looked expectantly at Ian. He was the swiftest of the outfit and was a natural at tracking. He could create a whole story out of only a few facts.

"Well," he said, speaking slowly for one of the very few times in his life. "Looks to me about maybe half a day, judgin' by the dust and tracks. Don't reckon many people come this way."

Nobody said anything for a few moments. Then, suddenly, but not hurriedly, Johnny said, "It's Uncle Brett."

All three turned to stare at him but it was Van who cried, "Uncle who?"

"Uncle Brett," Johnny repeated. "Look at him. He looks a lot like you, Van."

"Like me?"

"He sure does," said Ian, his whole face lighting up with a grin.

"I also remember Dad a lot better than you to. This fellow looks very similar to him."

"Well, I'll be, he shore does," was all Sean said.

"So," Van started, still a little uncertain about the man's identity. "What do we do with him?"

"Take him into town, I reckon," Sean answered. "I can carry him on my horse."

"Yeah, looks like his horse is long gone," added Ian.

Without another word the four puffed and heaved until they got the big body of their uncle onto the back of Sean's palomino then mounted their own horses and continued on down the trail. It took them little over an hour to get to the town, which was just beginning to wake up. When the four rode down the street people were just starting to open up their doors and windows.

But as soon as they saw that they had strangers in their town and that they were carting a dead body a crowd quickly began to gather. By the time they'd reached the small building that served as a jail and sheriff's office it looked as if the entire town had come out to escort them.

The four dismounted just as a big, bulky, bear of a man stepped slowly out of the building. His clothes and hair was somewhat mussed, as if he'd slept in them and just gotten up; his head was bare.

His eyes were blinking rapidly in the morning sun and he was buckling on his gun belt when he came out. When he saw the strangers in front of him he stopped short and regarded them with suspicion and caution.

"The name's Jackson," Johnny stepped forward and held out his hand. "Johnny Jackson. These are my brothers Sean, Van, and Ian."

"Swin Barker." The sheriff took the hand but shook it stiffly and dropped it immediately. "Now, you fellas wouldn't happen to be related to Buck Jackson, would ya?"

"He's our father," said Ian.

"He was your father," Swin corrected. "At least until about two weeks ago. "Guess you got my letter about the will, huh?"

"That's why we're here," Van spoke up.

"You're letter?" cried Ian.

"Before he died Buck's instructions were that I was to try to contact you before reading his will. We still haven't opened it yet. How long you fellas plannin' on stayin'?" Before they answered he stepped aside to look at their horses. Only then did he notice the body. "Say, who's that?"

"To your first question," Johnny offered. "It seems our Dad has left us his ranch. We might just plan on settlin' here." The sheriff shifted uneasily. "As to the second, that's our dearly departed uncle, Brett Jackson." A murmur rippled among the crowd at the name and the sheriff started as if he'd been slapped in the face.

"Brett?" he said quietly, his face an unreadable mask.

"A friend of yours?" asked Sean.

"Yes, and a right good one too."

"Who did it!" someone in the crowd shouted.

"We don't know," said Johnny.

"We found him on the trail about ten miles out of town," Van added.

"Ian here says he was shot sometime last night," Sean explained.

"I'll be the judge of that." The four turned at the soft voice to see a large, fat man making his way through the people.

"Who are you?" Ian demanded, slightly affronted.

"My name is Mark Washington. I'm a doctor." Reluctantly Ian stepped aside and allowed the doctor to examine the body. "I think the boy's right. This man was shot only a few hours ago," he said after careful examination. "But who's to say that they aren't the ones who did it?" Again the crowd broke out with mutterings and murmurings, only this time there was a large sense of suspicion in the air.

"Now hold, on," Van moved quickly to stand in front of Washington. "You don't know anything about us, so how can you just stand there and accuse us of this?"

"It's because we don't know anything about you, son," this was from Swin Barker.

"You don't believe this man, do you, sheriff?" Van's voice was a mix between incredulous and shock.

"This man happens to be one of our most substantial and upstanding citizens, Mr. Jackson," Swin replied somewhat coldly.

"So was Uncle Brett, I assume," Johnny replied quietly.

"Of course," this from the doctor.

"What about our Dad?" Sean asked.

"Both of them were," Swin answered quickly.

"Well, I've been told we take after dear old Dad," Ian said with a smile.

"Sheriff," Johnny said, so softly that only Swin and his brothers could here. "We didn't kill our uncle. I swear that on the grave of my Father." Nobody said a word for about ten seconds.

At last Swin sighed and said, "All right. But I'd still like for you fellas to, you know, stick around town until we clear things up."

"Thank you, sheriff," said Sean.

"We'll even help ya, if we can," Ian added.

"Oughtn't we to find a place to stay first?" asked Van.

"The best place in town is the Black Deck Hotel and Saloon, just across the street," Swin offered. "Buck was the owner but it's still open."

Johnny looked over at the building then said, "Thanks."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_**In which the brothers learn more of their extended family and**_

_**of their uncle's murder**_

After stabling their horses in the livery barn, the Jackson brothers checked into the Black Deck Hotel and settled into their rooms.

"What do we do first, Johnny?" Sean asked Johnny.

"First I'm gonna get me somethin' to eat," Ian answered for his brother. "I'm about as hungry as a bear wakin' up after hibernation."

The other three agreed with Ian and went down to the saloon and sat down at one of the tables. A few seconds later a pretty pig-tailed girl came over. "What can I get for you gentlemen?" she asked most politely. It wasn't every day she got to wait on four handsomest men.

"What's the special?" Van asked looking around haughtily for a menu of some kind.

"We'll all have whatever you got handy," said Sean.

"And pie," cried Ian. "You got any pie?"

"Yes sir. Apple pie's just come out of the oven."

"Bring us some of that too, please," Ian said licking his lips.

The girl hurried away and Van turned on his brother. "What's the idea, Sean, ordering like that?"

"Van," Johnny said slowly. "For the last time, you eat what they got or you don't eat at all. There aren't any special stuff out here." Van sat back in his chair with a huff.

A few minutes later the girl came back with four steaming plates of steaks and beans and a hot apple pie. Van watched in disgust as his three brothers dug right in and started fairly wolfing their food down. Unlike Ian, he still couldn't get used to the manners out here.

After a while though, his stomach started making some awful noises and he cautiously picked up his fork and tried a bite of beans. To his surprise they were actually quite good so he tried the steak. Within minutes he was eating just as fast as the others and soon had started in on the apple pie.

"Hey, slow down, Van," Ian laughed. "Leave some of that for the rest of us."

When they had finished the meal, the four sat back in their chairs rubbing their stomachs and sipping coffee. After finishing with a couple other customers, the girl came back to their table. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked.

"Maybe," Sean said. "What all do you know of Buck and Brett Jackson?"

"Why only that they've lived here ever since I can remember. I've always been told that together the two of them built this town up themselves and made it what it is today. It's a terrible shame both of them had to die so close together. Now their sister's all alone."

"Sister?" Johnny spoke to her for the first time.

"Olivia Lee. She and Brett were probably gonna get the ranch and saloon but I don't know what's gonna happen now that Mr. Brett's been murdered."

"So you do think he was murdered?" Ian questioned.

"Oh yes. His sister and her husband probably had him done in so they could get it all. "

"Well, there's two suspects for us to go on," said Van.

"What's her husband's name?" Johnny asked.

"Westin. We all call him Wes."

"When are they having the reading of the wills?" asked Sean.

"I heard it's to be tomorrow mornin'."

Johnny thanked the girl and gave her a large tip. "Well, Johnny," Sean said after she'd gone. "What do we do now?"

"I guess the best thing to do is get a good night's sleep for tomorrow," his brother answered. And so the four finished off their coffee and went back upstairs to their rooms.

The next morning Johnny was up bright and early. Without waking Sean he got dressed, pulled on his guns, and slipped out of the hotel and into the street. It was so early that not one person was up that he could tell. He decided to ride back up into the mountains.

He saddled his horse and rode out of the town just as Swin Baker woke up. The sheriff had almost chosen to run out after him but then decided against it. His brothers were still probably in the hotel, he thought and he had a feeling Johnny was not the kind to run off on his companions.

Johnny started out at a walk but after a few minutes moved up to a trot and then a canter. Even though his gelding had only been on the trail once he remembered it like the smell of oats and didn't stumble once. It took less than half an hour to get back to the place where they'd found their uncle's body.

He stopped his horse a few feet away so as not to disturb anything and dismounted to have another look around. The tracks were a little faded but still legible. He had no doubt that Ian was correct in his assumptions about the body but he was looking for something else.

He remembered that when they'd found the body he'd been lying face up, his head pointed in the direction of the town. He'd obviously been on his way up somewhere when shot. The ambusher, or ambushers, had shot him twice in his chest just as he'd come around the corner. The man had then apparently come up closer and shot him twice more in the head.

After deducing all of this, Johnny began looking around for the place the ambusher had lain in wait. He soon found it about twenty yards from the trail. It was a perfect spot, nestled between two boulders, with a clear view of the trial. Without disturbing anything Johnny examined the tracks. There was only one set so it apparently had been a lone gunman; a very small gunman by the size of his shoes, which were a good two inches smaller than Johnny's own boots. Johnny estimated the man to be about five foot seven, lean and thin. He could construe little else.

Thinking of nothing else to do, Johnny remounted his horse and headed back to town. He rode in just as his brothers were coming out of the hotel.

"Where have you been, Johnny?" Van asked at once.

"Up in the mountains," his brother replied, slowly descending from the horse. "Learned a few more things about Uncle Brett's death."

"What?" Ian cried.

"Well, he was on his way back from the mountains."

"Wonder what he was after up there," Sean mused.

"And it was only one man who shot at him. A small man, probably even small than you, Ian."

"Well, that narrows it down," Van muttered.

They had no time to talk further before Swin Baker came up to them a hard look in his eye. "You're back Mr. Jackson," he said to Johnny. "What were you doin' out there?"

"Tryin' to clear up a murder, Sheriff," Johnny replied.

"Say, when are we gonna get to hear what Dad left us?" asked Ian.

"We're gonna read both wills at noon today."

"But we're his sons," Van protested.

"Sorry, you'll just have to wait like everyone else."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_**In which the brothers meet their cousin and their father's will is read**_

By high noon almost the whole town it seemed was crammed into the saloon. It was Swin Baker and a small, thin man with a white mustache who stood up to read the wills. The Jackson brothers soon learned that the other man was Elias Howard, the mayor.

Everyone was still mingling about waiting for the mayor and sheriff to get everything assembled when the brothers were suddenly approached by a very small, but very attractive young woman. "I understand you are the four sons of the late Mr. Buck Jackson," she said. None of the brothers answered for a full five seconds. They were all captivated by her silky brown hair that she'd swept up on top of her head, her mysterious green eyes that seemed to swallow them up, and especially her very red mouth.

At last Johnny found his voice. "That's right, miss. I'm afraid, however, that we have no idea who you are."

The girl, who couldn't have been much older than twenty, Johnny mused, smiled at him. It was a nice smile but it did not quite reach her eyes which were very dark and mysterious. "My name is Andria Lee."

"I see," Van replied for them, not really thinking of anything else to say.

"I'm representing my father and stepmother today," Andria went on. "Wes and Olivia Lee."

"For the reading?" Sean asked. Andria nodded.

"Wait a sec," Ian suddenly cried staring hard at the girl. "Did you say _Olivia_ Lee?" Again Andria nodded. "Fellas, that's our aunt."

"Oh, didn't you know?" Andria looked around at the other three and couldn't help smiling. "Sorry about that. Yes, we're cousins, in a way."

"Andria." The four brothers turned to see a dark-haired, sharp-eyed man walking towards them. There was nothing really unusual about the man, but the tension seemed to rocket through the roof and each brother felt as if they were somehow strangely threatened. They allowed none of their emotions to show on their faces however. "Andria," the man said again upon reaching them. He was obviously frustrated and had no wish to even introduce himself.

"Oh hello, Varick," Andria said. The man now known as Varick opened his mouth to say something but before he could she continued. "You haven't met my cousins have you?"

Of all the things Varick had been expecting, it was clear that this had not been one of them. By the look of almost horror on his face, the brothers believed it was probably the worst news he could have received. "Your-your cousins?" he stuttered, taking his first good look at the brothers.

"Of course," Andria said just as surprised as the Jacksons. "They are the sons of Buck Jackson." As suddenly as the smile had broken across her face it vanished and was replaced by a look that almost matched that of Varick's. "Oh, Varick," she whispered frantically. "I didn't know! I mean I didn't make the connection-"

"Andria!" he cried, grabbing her arm and giving her a tight squeeze. "Excuse me," he said to the brothers. "She can get very excited sometimes."

"Who are you?" Ian asked rudely, not liking the taller, sinister man one bit.

"My name is Varick Braden. I ran the saloon part of the Black Deck under Brett."

"I thought Dad owned it all," Van said to Johnny.

"Oh he did," Varick said quickly. "He liked to roam about a lot though. He was never around much so he left the Black Deck in Brett's charge and the ranch in Olivia's."

"Well, the ownership is really gonna change now," Ian said with a smile.

Before Varick could further inquire, the mayor climbed up onto the platform and raised his hands for quiet. "Good citizens!" he cried out. "Your attention please." At last everyone quieted down and he continued. "Everyone here knows what has occurred over the past few weeks – it's probably why you're here – so I won't go into a lot of detail. The main point is that Buck Jackson and his brother, Brett, are now dead. Of course they would not think of leaving nothing behind for their relatives and here," he held up the two pieces of paper, "are their wills."

If there had been any talking during his little speech, it stopped instantly. The mayor paused for effect then slowly opened one of the wills. "Since Buck died before Brett I think it's only fitting that we read his first."

"Oh man," Ian nudged Sean in the ribs. "Everybody's really gonna get a surprise, huh?"

"Probably," Sean replied.

"Sh, he's started," Van hissed.

"'I Barnard Andrew Jackson,'" the mayor read, "'being of sound mind, do bequeath the following to the following: to my sister, Olivia, and my brother, Brett, I leave the Black Deck Hotel/Saloon. May it prosper in their hands as it did mine.

'To the town I leave the gallows which I helped build with my own two hands, may there only be just hangings on it. Last I wish to remember my four sons, Jonathan, Sean, Giovanni, and Ian Jackson.'" The mayor paused for a second and there was a sudden gasp from the crowd at this unexpected turn of events.

At last Elias continued. "Uh, 'to Jonathan I leave my guns; I've killed many a bad man with them and those maybe not so bad. Use them with good judgment.

'To Sean I leave my own personal saddle and bridal; they've lasted me these twenty years and more; may they last you just as long.

'To Giovanni I leave my collection of Shakespeare works, and any other books you may take an interest in.

'And to Ian I leave my hat and lucky stallion, Dynamite; enjoy them as much as I did.

'To the four of you, I also leave my ranch. I had originally built it for your mother. I hope you like it better than she did. I'm sorry I never got to really know you boys but maybe you will know me a little better now. Signed, Buck Jackson.'" The crowd erupted with exclamations. The mayor about dropped the paper in shock. He was just as surprised as everyone else. Only the brothers themselves and Swin Baker seemed unaffected.

"His sons!", "Where in the world did they come from?", and "Why would he leave all of his stuff to boys he's never known?" were only a few of the questions asked by the crowd.

Just before it developed into a full fledged riot, the sheriff jumped onto the platform and soon had the crowd quieted down. "Everyone just calm down," he cried. "You all know as well as I do that the only reason you're here is because you hope you'll get some little piece of Buck and Brett Jackson's wealth. Did you work to get it? No. Were you good friends with the two Jacksons? Some of you. But you all know perfectly well that nobody has more right to their possessions than their own kith and kin."

Reluctantly, one by one, the people nodded their heads. "Well, what about Brett's will?" someone cried out.

"Ah, yes," the mayor started unfolding the other piece of paper. "Ahem." The crowd once more grew deathly silent. "'I, Brett Jackson, being of sound mind, do bequeath my share of the Black Deck Hotel/Saloon to my sister, Olivia, and all the other things I possess to my baby brother, Barkley. Olivia, I know Buck never liked Barkley so I leave it to you to try to find Barkley or any of his descendants and tell them of my passing. You're brother, Brett.'"

No one spoke a word for a full ten seconds. No one could think of a thing to say. "I didn't know he had another brother," Ian whispered. Johnny nodded. "I remember Dad telling me and Sean about him once. He ran away when he was about your age and squandered all his money on women and whiskey. It was even rumored he'd married a girl then left her."

"Woah," Ian whistled. "And Brett's leaving his stuff to him?"

"Apparently Brett was the closest to Barkley and the only one who tried to keep in touch with him after he left. Buck almost cut him out of his will for it though."

"Well." Johnny and Ian turned around to find the Mayor standing right beside them. "Miss Lee," he spoke to Andria. "Would you let your step-mother know about her inheritance?" Andria nodded mutely.

There was really nothing else to be done so the people slowly began to disperse. In no time the place had been deserted but for the sheriff, the four brothers, and Andria Lee and Varick Braden.

"Well, boys," Swin sighed coming down from the platform. "I guess that's that. Oh, here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out another sheet of paper. "The deed to the ranch. It's yours now."

"Thanks," said Johnny, taking it and transferring it to his own pocket.

"I guess this means you'll be settling here?"

"At least for a while," Van replied.

"There's still the case of Uncle Brett's murder we have to clear up," Ian added.

"Yes," Swin sighed again. Such an old sigh it seemed. One could almost see the lines on his face deepen and the hair on his head grow grayer.

"Be assured," Van said most importantly. "We're doing everything we can to figure it out."

"I appreciate that." No one said anything until Swin spotted Andria and hurried the boys over to her. "Miss Lee," he said upon reaching her. "Have you met the young Jackson brothers?"

"Why, yes I have had the pleasure of making their acquaintance," she replied with a tight smile. Johnny noticed that Varick was looking particularly anxious and angry.

"Oh, I see," said the deflated sheriff.

"Congratulations," Andria held her hand out to Johnny.

"What for?" Johnny asked slowly taking her hand.

"Why for inheriting the ranch."

"You're treating it like it was a contest," said Ian.

"We didn't win anything," Van added.

"Thanks all the same," Sean said with a smile.

"When were you planning on going back to the ranch?" Johnny asked, dropping her hand.

"Right away."

"Would you mind if we accompanied you?" Sean inquired.

"That's a good idea," said Swin. "I believe all the things Buck left you are still at the ranch. And I would feel better knowing you weren't out there alone, Miss Lee."

"Sheriff, how many times have I traveled back and forth from the ranch?"

"Uh, well…"

"Enough. Why do I all of a sudden need protection?"

"Because we have a murderer in our mists," the sheriff replied in a hushed voice. "And Brett was obviously on his way to the ranch when he was shot."

"How do you know?" Johnny asked suddenly.

"You said he'd been on his way up into the mountains away from the town. There's nothing down that trail between here and the next town but the ranch."

"And Salty Cannon's at least forty miles away," Varick added.

Johnny turned his head in his direction. He'd completely forgotten the man was still there. "Miss Lee," he said turning back to her. "We were going to the ranch anyway."

"All right," she said at last. "It will be nice to have the company."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_**In which the brothers visit the ranch and make a startling discovery**_

After getting their gear together, the five started out on their way at an easy trot. They were to take the same trail that led into the town until they got to the fork in the road then head left. This trail was much narrower than the one they'd left but there were not as many ups and downs. There was a lot more trees and grass and after an hour, they came to a small stream and stopped to let their horses drink and graze a bit.

"Well, Johnny," Sean said after getting a drink from the stream. "How do you like your share of the stuff?"

"I don't know. Haven't seen it yet."

"I just hope that stallion _is _lucky," Ian piped up.

"I guess just about anything would be better than books though," Sean replied.

"All matter of opinion, Sean," Van retorted. "I happen to be an avid book-reader and am very pleased to be left with Father's collection." Sean and Ian merely sighed and shook their heads.

"I was wondering who'd get those," Andria sighed.

"You read?" Van asked surprised.

"Oh absolutely. Books are one of the few things that have helped me through life."

"Well, maybe you can have some of them." Johnny sent his brother a warning glance but Van ignored him.

"Really?" Andria was saying excitedly. "Thank you so much."

"Well, let's get a move on, boys," Johnny said before she could gush out her whole heart to Van. They all rose from the ground and mounted their horses. Within minutes they'd left the little stream, and even though they hadn't spotted him, the lone rider on top of the last rise had not let them leave his sight.

When they rode over the last rise before entering the valley the ranch was nestled in, the first thing Johnny noticed was the loneliness and desolateness of the place. There were no herds of cows despite all the beautiful green grass, and no horses or any other form of livestock that he could see, and didn't look like there was a soul on the place.

The five slowly rode down the path and dismounted in front of the huge house, tying their horses to the rotting hitching post. Sean, Van, and Ian at once started up the steps but it was Johnny who stayed to help Andria dismount her horse.

"Thank you," she said, remaining in his arms a little longer than necessary, surprising even herself. She looked past him at his three brothers who seemed to have completely forgotten them.

Johnny turned to see what she was looking at then said, "Yes, you'd think it would be Van or Ian even who'd have better manners."

"Oh, I wasn't thinking that at all," she cried. Johnny smiled slightly then the big, oak door opened a crack.

"Who is it?" a raspy woman's voice demanded.

"My name's Van Jackson and these are my brothers."

"What of it?"

"Olivia, let me in," Andria sighed making her way in front of her boys. "It's me."

"Andria!" the short, slightly plump woman cried opening the door wide and stepping aside. "What are you doing back so soon?"

"They had the reading this afternoon and my cousins were kind enough to escort me home."

"Cousins?" Olivia looked long and hard at the four boys.

"Yes, they're the sons of Buck Jackson."

"Buck?" The four boys nodded. "Well, come in then," Olivia said turning on her heel and flouncing back into the house. Johnny looked back at his brothers before following Andria and her step-mother inside. "All his old stuff is upstairs," Andria said. They'd stopping in what probably used to be the kitchen. It looked more like a bar than anything else, except it didn't have the mirror. Three rather greasy looking men were sitting at the bar and nursing shots of whiskey.

"Uh, excuse me," Van said rather stiffly. "But would you mind telling us just exactly who you are?"

"Well, if you four are Buck's sons, then I'm your Aunt Olivia. That over there's your Uncle Wes," she pointed to the closest man to them. He had long black hair he kept in a ponytail and he wore dirty buckskins. He had a tired look in his eyes and his mouth hung open like a cod fish. He looked like he was in a daze but the boys could tell he was very aware of his surroundings.

"The other two are our boys, Jame and Rusty," Olivia continued. The two boys were just as dirty-looking as their father, only they looked a whole lot meaner. They had dirty blond hair and pale blue eyes which were staring at the Jackson brothers almost hungrily. Both of them had turned up noses like there was something foul in the air, and as soon as they moved farther into the room the brothers realized that there was.

"Howdy," said Ian. "My name's Ian, this is Van, Sean, and Johnny."

"Howdy," Jame replied with a snicker. "Well, now, looks like we got us some new cousins, Rusty."

"Maybe we should take 'em out for a tour of the ranch?" his brother added.

"Shut up," Wes finally spoke in a slow drawl. "What do you boys want here?" He stared at his four nephews.

"Our Father left us a few things," Johnny replied.

"Well, like she said," Rusty jerked his thumb at his mother. "All Buck's old junk is upstairs."

"Just don't go in our rooms," Jame added quickly.

"Well, that's something we need to discuss," Johnny said slowly.

"What are you talkin' about?" Wes drawled.

"They inherited more than just a few things," Andria said gently.

"We actually-" Johnny started to explain but then thought better of it and took the will from his pocket. "How about you just read it for yourself."

Wes took the paper and slowly read it out loud. When he was done you could've heard a pin drop.

"Uh, Dad," Jame was the first to speak. "What does all that mean?"

"It means my brother's dumped us out on our ears for sons who deserted him."

"We didn't leave our father," Sean said quietly but affectively. "Our mother did."

"And," Andria said quickly. "You got something, Olivia. Half of the Black Deck is nothing to sneeze at."

"What about the other half?" Rusty demanded. "Now that Uncle Brett's dead who gets it?"

"Uh, well, it came as quite a shock," Andria replied. "Olivia, do you remember your little brother Barkley?"

"Of course I remember him. He ran off when he was only fifteen. The last I heard he'd gotten himself thrown in jail for robbing a bank."

"Well, Brett left him the other half of the Black Deck."

"What?" Wes gasped. "That no good, thieving, scoundrel?"

"Brett always did have a soft spot for that boy," Olivia ground through her teeth.

"Hey, Mom," Jame cried suddenly. "Didn't you get a letter or something a few years ago about Uncle Barkley dyin' er something?"

Olivia and Wes's faces slowly lightened. "Why I believe I did," she said.

"And I don't recall him having any children," Wes added.

"We may just get the Black Deck after all." Olivia, Wes, and their sons started having a small celebration, breaking out the good whiskey and everything. Only Johnny noticed the smugly triumphant look on Andria's face when she looked at Olivia.

"Uh, well," Ian cried to his aunt over the din. "Dad also left us a few of his belongings."

"The sheriff said to look here," Van added.

"Anything of Buck's is in the attic," Olivia said to them.

"Come on," Andria said, motioning them towards the door. "I'll show you."

When they reached the dirty musty attic the boys split up to search for the items. After ten minutes they met back together in the middle to show what they'd found.

"Well, here are the guns," said Johnny. He took a pearl handled .45 Peacemaker in each hand and did some expert twirl work before slipping them into his gun belt. He stuck his old guns in his regular pants belt.

"And I've got my saddle and bridal," said Sean dropping the gear down with a thud raising a big puff of dust. The saddle was dark brown, almost black and smelled of dirt and old whiskey. "A little musty," Sean said patting the saddle horn. "But still good."

"I've found my books," Van added pulling a large trunk up and sitting on it with a huff. He had one of the books in his hands and flipped it open. "'Romeo, Romeo,'" he read from the Shakespearian play. "'Where for art thou, Romeo?'" He read with such eloquence his two brothers were transfixed to the spot. "What do you think the bard is saying there?" he asked, breaking the mood.

"Where are you, Romeo?" Sean snorted. "And who's the bard?

"No, to your first question" Johnny said with a slight grin. "Juliet is sad that Romeo is a Montague and she is a Capulet, the two families of a certain city that hate each other. And to your second question, Shakespeare was often referred to as a Bard."

"Johnny," Van was staring at his brother dumbfounded. "I never thought you knew Shakespeare."

"Days of riding alone in the west can make you lonely. Books were sometimes the only company I could get, apart from Sean here."

"Oh thank you," Sean said with a grunt. "I'm glad my society almost reaches that of a book."

"Sorry, Sean," Johnny said with a laugh. "But Shakespeare has you beat. Hey, Ian, locate your stuff?"

"Yeah," Ian's voice was soft and a little confused. "But I also found something else." His brothers walked over to the corner he was crouching in and looked over his shoulder at what he was holding in his hands. It was a family photograph of a mother, father, and four children, three boys and one girl. The children were young adults and the Jackson brothers could easily recognize three of them.

"That's Dad," Sean pointed to the tall, handsome man standing in the back.

"That's Uncle Brett," Van pointed to the one next to him.

"And that's definitely Aunt Olivia," said Sean.

"I wonder who that other fella is," Ian added.

"Can't you tell?" Johnny asked surprised. "It's Uncle Black sheep Barkley."

"Woah," breathed Ian.

"That's weird," said Van slowly.

"What?" asked Sean.

"He looks very much like someone we all know," Van replied.

"Who?" cried Ian.

Johnny gazed hard at his brother then at the picture. Suddenly he saw it. He looked up at Sean and Ian and said very seriously, "Varick Braden."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_**In which Johnny overhears the plans of another murder**_

"Hurry up, Ian," Van called up the stairs. "Get your stuff and let's go."

"Here's the hat," Ian said placing it firmly on his head as he came down. When he reached the bottom he added with a grin, "But I didn't find no horse."

"Come on, Ian," Sean laughed. "It's probably down in the stables somewhere."

The four climbed back down the stairs with their gear and took it outside to their horses. Then they went to the stables to look for Dynamite. It was there that they met their two cousins.

"What are you lookin' for in here?" Rusty demanded, a mean gleam in his eye.

"My horse," Ian said almost as harshly.

"What horse?" Jame scoffed.

"Dynamite," Ian replied.

"Oh yeah, him," Rusty sent an obvious wink at his brother. "You can have him. If you can ride him."

"Weather I can er not," Ian said, his grin very tight, "Dynamite's mine." He said this with such seriousness that his two cousins were taken aback. "Now where is he?" The two Lees could only stutter and point awkwardly to one of the stalls. Ian walked decidedly over to the stall and looked inside. What he saw was a small pinto dozing in the back corner.

Slowly, Ian opened the door and stepped inside. He saw the horse open his eyes and slowly raise his head and he noted his ears which were laid back almost flat against his skull. Sure he looked calm but underneath the peaceful exterior there dwelt a volcano ready to explode.

"Hey there, Dynamite," he said quietly, carefully reaching his hand out towards the horse's head. "I know you're just aching to do somethin' to me, but I'll tell you right now. You so much as bruise me an' you'll find yerself on the next train to a dog dish." The horse blinked once.

"Yeah," Ian continued quietly. "I hear dogs feast on horse flesh twice a day back east."

Ever so slightly Dynamite's ears started to rise. "I'm not afraid of you. And I know my will is stronger than yours. Now you can cooperate and be treated well, or not and be eaten." By the end of this little speech Dynamite's ears had come up completely and he'd dropped his head slightly.

"That's a good boy," Ian was all but whispering now and his hand was resting on the horse's neck. "Hand me the bridal," he whispered and Sean quickly handed him his old one. Dynamite took the bridal like an old eighteen-year-old; the saddle too. When Ian proudly rode out of that barn, he was sitting on the most peaceful Dynamite Rusty and Jame had ever seen.

"He's an excellent animal," Ian said to his cousins with a grin. "You just gotta know how to handle him."

"Okay, Ian," Johnny said, his voice a mix between serious and humorous. "Enough showing off."

"You can get down now," Van added, though a lot more chastising.

"Well, uh," Jame said to Johnny a lot more respectfully. "What were you fellas plannin' on doin' now?"

"We thought instead of wastin' our money at the hotel we'd set up right here," Johnny replied.

"How about you?" Sean asked.

"Mom's already packin' and gittin' ready fer the trip up to town," Rusty answered.

"She figured you would want to stay here," Jame added.

"She did ask Pa if Andria could stay with you guys a couple days, you know, to show you around and maybe keep house fer a while."

"Well, that was very kind of her," Van said with a wide grin.

"Sean's the only one of us with any kind of cookin' sense and not very much of that," Ian chuckled.

"When are you leaving?" Johnny inquired.

"Mom was hoping to get to town by supper time," Rusty mused.

"Well, come on," said Sean. "We'll, help you pack up."

The six cousins made their way back to the big house where they met Olivia piling up boxes and suitcases on the front porch.

"How's it comin' Ma?" Rusty asked.

"Almost finished I think," Olivia huffed. "All I need is some help gettin' a few pieces of furniture."

"We'll get 'em, Aunt Olive," Ian said with a smile.

"Olive," Jame stared at his cousin.

"It's a term of endearment," Johnny explained.

"Why, Ian, I haven't been called that since your mother went away," Olivia said with a tear in her eye. "It's what she always called me."

Leaving their aunt to reminisce over old times, the four brothers went inside where they found an old dresser, vanity, and a couple rocking chairs.

"Guess that's everything," Olivia said after they'd loaded everything up on the wagon.

After helping his wife into the wagon Wes turned back to his daughter. "Andria, you don't have to stay here. These boys have been watchin' out for themselves for a couple years now."

"I know, Dad," Andria replied. "But it's always nice to have hot meals for a change. And they're not used to the place."

"You're father's right, Andria," said Sean. "We will live without you."

"But on the other hand," Van added. "We could use her help starting out the first couple days or so."

"And I'm certainly tired of cold meals," said Ian.

"It's up to you, Andria," Johnny finally pronounced.

"If you do," Jame offered, "I'll be glad to hang around with ya."

"All right, then," said Andria. "I'll stay."

"Okay," Wes sighed getting up beside his wife. "Come on, Rusty. Let's hit the trail."

By the time the Lees' wagon had disappeared from their sight, the sun had started to set beyond the purple mountains behind the ranch. "Well," Sean said turning back to the house. "Guess we better start settling in."

"I'll start supper," Andria offered.

"I'll show you guys around upstairs," Jame added.

It was after the sun had pulled the blanket of night up over its head that the four Jackson Brothers and two Lee siblings sat down to supper. Johnny for one was very pleased with their lodgings and looked back on the past happenings with a satisfied air. If only the matter of their murdered uncle could be cleared up just as easily as the reading of the wills had been. With a reluctant sigh, he turned back to his meal, which, he silently exclaimed, was delicious, and tried to think of better things.

The first few days on the ranch were uneventful and soon a week had passed. The only thing unusual, and that Johnny only found so, was the two visits of Varick Braden. Both, the man had explained, were visits for Wes to make sure Andria was all right. Johnny accepted this the first time and the second. But when Varick rode up not two days after his last visit, Johnny began to feel a little suspicious.

He did not believe a man such as Wes to be all that anxious over his daughter, and if he was he would probably have gone himself instead of sending somebody else. But Varick was persistent. Wes was worried and what with the arrival of Olivia at the hotel, there wasn't really much for him to do now.

Only a day or two after their arrival, Johnny had started a habit of taking his horse out after sunset and riding around the ranch. It was a time when he could think and get an idea of just how much he and his brothers owned. It was a Wednesday when Varick stopped by for the third time, and being hospitable as usual, the brothers had invited him to stay for supper. He'd accepted as usual, and started back for the town just as the sun was setting.

As was his habit, after it was relatively dark and the moon had come out, Johnny saddled up his horse and rode out into the night. He realized now just why he'd hated the city so much and loved the west even more. A man could breathe out here without all the smog and noise of the city. The bright stars almost made it as bright as day. No artificial city lights hid them from view. And it was clear. So clear you could hear a cricket a mile away and see the light of a candle almost twice that distance.

It was after the moon had joined the stars in the sky and there were no more hints of sunlight when Johnny turned his face back in the direction of the ranch. He took less time returning than going but made it back to the stables in good time. It was there, while in his horse's stall rubbing him down, that he overheard something that made his blood freeze.

He had just finished currying the big black when he heard the sound of a woman's voice. She was speaking quietly, but whoever it was, was coming closer and closer to the stable. By the time she'd reached the doorway she'd finished whatever she'd been saying and another voice, that of a man, answered her and they moved farther into the stable.

It was dark. Johnny knew his horse blindfolded and after going through the same routine six times in a row knew exactly what he was doing and had had no need for a light. The two people were obviously well acquainted with their surroundings as well. Either that or they did not want to risk being seen by anybody.

After listening a few moments, Johnny decided on the latter.

"You can't keep coming back like this," the woman, who Johnny now recognized as Andria, was whispering desperately.

"I told you to stay in town," the man countered, also in a whisper. It was a young voice, slightly gruff but that was all Johnny could discern about him. "Only a few more days and our plan will be complete. I was beginning to think they'd never get around to the wills."

"That's something I wanted to ask you about. How did you know that Brett was going to leave all of his stuff to your father?"

'So this man is another one of my cousins,' Johnny mused silently. 'It looks like Andria and I are the only ones who now know about him though.'

"My dad told me so. Even though Buck and Olivia hated my father for running off and-you know-Brett's love for my father was so strong that he sent him a note explaining the situation. That's why my dad moved us back here."

"I didn't know that. I thought you just wandered in and that nice old man who ran the mill took you in."

"He did. That nice man was my father."

"Well, Brett must not have told you the particulars," Andria said after a pause. "All you got was half of the Black Deck."

"Brett would probably have been just as shocked as we were at the news of Buck's boys inheriting."

"Didn't anybody know about them?"

"Only Brett and Olivia I think but they probably thought since his wife left him that he'd forget about them."

"Well he didn't. What are we going to do?"

"We deal with them later. Right now we concentrate on the property in town."

"Isn't there another way?"

"No, you know there isn't. You're not pulling the second thoughts routine on me are you?"

"No!"

"Because if you are I'll be coming after you next. You're in my way too you know."

"All right, all right. Tomorrow then."

"You'll be in town?"

"I will."

"You know who to bring, and what to do?"

"I know."

"Don't be late."

Like a shadow the man ducked back out of the stable and Johnny could hear him running along the back side and then out into the woods. Andria waited a few seconds not moving. Johnny held his breath, waiting for her to go. Suddenly she cried out weakly, "Oh God, forgive me! Forgive me!" Then to Johnny's shock and somewhat horror, she collapsed right there on the floor and burst into tears. Being the sensible man that he was Johnny used this to sneak out of the barn unseen.

Halfway to the house he turned around again and started back towards the barn at a fairly noisy walk. He reached the door and stepped inside coming to a halt. Andria had obviously heard him long before he'd entered but had only just managed to choke back a sob.

"Andria," Johnny made his voice as surprised as possible. "What are you doing here?"

"Johnny!" she gasped tearfully. "You-you scared me." Johnny looked so deeply into her eyes he himself thought he could almost see the face of the man she'd been talking to. But before he could even try she dropped her head and started to cry all over again. "Oh God forgive me!" she cried. Johnny knelt down by her side and tentatively reached his hand out to pat her shoulder. Without warning Andria suddenly fell into his arms and sobbed her heart out. Johnny had never had much experience with women but he did have the sense to put his arms around the girl. After about three minutes or so the sobs began to subside and then stop altogether. She sniffed once or twice then hesitantly turned her face up to look at him. "I-I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay," he said. "Um, what are you doing out here?" he asked again.

"I-I wanted a breath of fresh air. It was so stuffy in the house."

"Andria," Johnny pulled her face up to look at him and barely stifled a gasp. Sure he'd thought her very pretty when he first saw her but now, now with her face streaked with tears and her eyes red and puffy she looked beautiful. 'She's your cousin, Johnny,' he scolded himself. 'Not really,' he silently retorted. 'Her father married my aunt. There's no relation at all.' She was there, all he had to do was move his head down one inch and-

But before he could give in to the temptation the saner side of him said quickly, "Is anything wrong?" and the mood was broken.

"N-no, nothing," she murmured in a voice that almost sounded disappointed.

"Okay," Johnny sighed. "Come on, I think we've had enough fresh air." He helped her to her feet and back to the house. Everyone else had gone to bed, no one saw them. Johnny was glad of that. He wasn't sure if he should inform his brothers of what he'd overheard yet or not. One thing he was certain of though. He would be making a trip to town tomorrow. He was going to keep a very close eye on Andria Lee.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_**In which Johnny finds himself in a gunfight**_

"Hey, Johnny, what're ya doin'?" It was not yet five in the morning and Johnny had hoped to get a few things ready before everybody else got up. Trust Sean to smell the eggs and bacon he was cookin' up for breakfast.

"What's it look like?" was Johnny's reply.

"Andria's cookin' not good enough fer ya?"

"Heck, no, but this being her last day and all I figured I'd give her a break."

"There's somethin' else, Johnny," Sean said leaning up against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Well, I'll be going along with Andria and Jame up to town," Johnny answered, not turning around.

"What fer?"

"Well, we could use a few more supplies and…" He didn't finish the sentence and Sean had to prompt him. "Well, okay, I'll tell you, Sean, but it's got to be kept a secret." Sean nodded solemnly. "A man came here last night and met with Andria in the barn." At the questioning look in his brother's eye Johnny explained, "You know how I've been riding around in the evening lately." Sean nodded. "Well, last night I was putting Dusk away and overheard her and the guy talking. Something's going to happen today at the hotel and I'm riding up to town with them to make sure it doesn't happen."

"You say it was Andria meeting this guy?" Johnny nodded. "Well, gee, wonder what she could be doin' mixin' up in all of this. You think she had a hand in murderin' Uncle Brett?"

"Don't know, but it's sure possible."

"Hey, I'll go with you."

"No, Sean. You stay here with Van and Ian. I don't want whoever it was last night to be suspicious. Don't worry, I can handle myself."

"I know that. That won't keep me from worryin' though."

"Worrying about what?" The brothers looked up and right into the apprehensive stare of Andria herself. Johnny studied her carefully, but there seemed to be no trace of the fearful, guilt-stricken girl he'd been with last night. This morning she was fresher than the first buds of spring and even more beautiful.

"Oh, uh…" Sean stuttered trying to think of something to say.

"We're getting a little low on supplies," Johnny offered.

"Oh yes, I was going to tell you this morning," Andria affirmed moving further into the kitchen.

"I was thinking I'd accompany you and Jame up to town, if that's all right?" Johnny asked.

"Of course, we'd be glad to have you."

"That settles it," Johnny said turning back to the stove.

"Is it you making that heavenly smell?" Johnny didn't answer as she moved up behind him to smell over his shoulder.

"Well, and here I thought none of you boys could cook," she admonished, trying not the smile.

"This is just about the only thing I can cook," Johnny replied, almost grinning himself. "Except maybe trail coffee."

"Well, hurry up," an excited voice called from the doorway and the three turned to see Ian standing there pulling his suspenders up over his shoulders and wriggling into his shirt. "Pardon my appearances," he made his excuses to Andria. "But I'm starved."

"Go ahead and eat," Johnny said, at last letting the grin break out. "I gotta go get ready."

"Where're ya goin'?" Ian asked grabbing a plate and helping himself.

"Into town with Andria and Jame. We're a little short on supplies."

"Can I come?"

"Sorry, Ian, I think it'd be better if I just went."

After Van and Jame had come down and the six had finished breakfast, Johnny took Sean aside and said, "I think we better wait until I come back to tell Ian and Van what's happening."

"Okay. Say, Johnny, I didn't know if I should tell you this, but in light of recent events I think I better."

"What is it?"

"Well, last night after Varick left and you went out with Dusk, Ian and Van started playing checkers as usual." Johnny nodded. "Well, I'd gone to get a drink from the kitchen and as I passed by the dinning room I overheard Andria and Jame talking."

"What about?"

"The first thing I heard was that she thought it a good idea to leave for town today, and I thought nothing of it, but then I heard Jame say, 'I don't feel right leavin' the ranch here with them.' Andria of course asked why not and Jame said that everything had happened so sudden like and it was all too suspicious; Dad dying was no big surprise but then Brett getting murdered and us arriving the same day."

"Yes. You have to admit it is rather strange, but I don't think it was planned. Did you hear anything else?"

"Yeah, Jame added something about having to be real careful and all and then Andria surprised me when she accused him of talking to Varick Braden again."

"Really."

"Yeah, she said not to listen to him, that he was a bad man."

"Well, that's odd. She didn't seem so afraid of him in town or the last three times he's visited."

"Watch yourself, Johnny," Sean said very seriously. "This may be bigger than we think."

Not much was said on the journey up to town. After Sean's warning Johnny made sure to be extremely careful around Jame, who didn't say a word the whole time. Andria was slightly more talkative but not much. Johnny surmised it was because of the upcoming venture.

"What will you do now that you'll be living in town?" Johnny asked after awhile.

"Probably help my father with the hotel."

"I'd have thought Olivia would let Wes run the saloon and she'd take care of the hotel."

"Oh, well," Andria fidgeting frantically under Johnny's serious stare. Johnny watched her intently but did not miss the cold look Jame shot him. "Um, didn't I say mother?" Andria said at last. "That's what I meant. I'd probably help Olivia in the hotel."

"Who'd be helping your father then?"

"We'll keep Varick Braden on. He's actually better at stuff like this than my father."

The two again elapsed into silence and nothing more was said for the remainder of the journey. Now Johnny had some idea of just who Andria and the stranger were after. He'd have to keep a close eye on Olivia. Or at least be sure he stayed at the saloon to make sure nothing happened there.

As soon as they rolled into town Jame told Johnny they were going to the hotel to see their parents. At first Johnny wanted to accompany them but then decided it would make them even more suspicious and elected to stop by the store and get the supplies.

At the Fletcher Emporium across the street he soon found everything he wanted. It was Adam Fletcher himself who waited on him. "Sad business this is," he said handing Johnny down a couple of shirts to inspect. "Both the Jackson brothers dying so sudden like." Johnny shrugged but did not reply. "Were you close to your father, Mr. Jackson?"

"Johnny," Johnny said. "And not really. We left to go back to New York when I was only seven. Sean and I are the ones who remember him the best and Ian not at all."

"A shame, not knowing your own father. I understand you four are trying to find who killed your uncle."

"Some people think we did it, Mr. Fletcher," Johnny sighed. "We didn't and we aim to prove it and bring his real murderer to justice."

"How are you coming?"

Johnny started to speak but then had a thought. He didn't know this man, not really. He could be the murderer for all he knew. "We have our suspects," he finally said, not looking the man in the eye. "Well, thanks for your help." Without another word Johnny paid him and left. After making a quick stop to his wagon to drop off the stuff, he headed for the Black Deck Saloon.

Instead of standing at the bar, Johnny asked for a glass and bottle of whiskey and sat down at one of the back tables so he could survey the whole room. He'd hardly drunk two sips of the liquor before the batwing doors flew open and two very angry men burst in. Johnny looked up in some surprise into the furious faces of Jame and Rusty Lee. They stopped short not three steps into the room and looked around. It didn't take a doctor to know who they were looking for and Johnny was no doctor.

"Over hear, boys," he called to them. His voice was calm but it cut through the crowd of other voices and almost immediately the room went silent. When the Lee brothers saw him they took two more steps into the room then stopped again. They were still frowning angrily. "Sit down," Johnny said motioning to the two empty chairs at his table.

"Get a load o' him," Jame snarled at his brother. "Tryin' to cuddle up to us."

"I say we kill him now and be done with it," Rusty growled back. He started to go for his gun but two things happened that made him stop. One was Jame who grabbed his arm; the other and the thing that really stopped him was Johnny.

All he said was, "I wouldn't do that, Rusty." He said it as calm and cool as if he was ordering a steak.

"He's right, Rusty," Jame added. "That's not the way to handle it."

"Why not?" Rusty demanded, not dropping his hand but keeping it close to his gun. "He'd deserve it."

"Why Rusty?" Johnny asked. His calmness was starting to get on Rusty's nerves.

"Why you dirty, mangy dog!"

"Are you insulting me?" Johnny coolly interrupted. "'Cause if you were and I was to find out about it…"

"You think you and those sapheads you call brothers can just swagger on in here and expect to get everything? Well, you got another thing comin, you son-of-a-"

"Are you insulting my mother?" Johnny coolly interrupted. "I can take insults and my brothers are men enough to take care of themselves but I don't tolerate people slighting my mother."

"She's the one who up and run off leaving Buck alone. If you ask me you boys don't deserve anything of Buck's."

"You better stop, Rusty," Johnny said slowly rising to his feet. They were making him mad and he didn't always think clearly when he was mad. He didn't even notice when Varick Braden slipped inside and found himself a dark corner across the room.

"You know, it was the day you boys came that Uncle Brett was found murdered, and wasn't it you fellas that found him?"

Johnny knew Rusty was just trying to rile him and he answered slowly, "We've already talked with the sheriff about that. It's one of the reasons we're sticking around; to find our uncle's murderer."

"Yeah, you're sticking around so you can get all you can from yer father and uncle then skedaddle. Well, I tell ya I won't stand fer it. I won't let you get away with it." And before Johnny could say anything to stop him Rusty had grabbed for his gun. Johnny looked into his eyes and saw plain as day what he planned to do. _Why'd he go and do it_? he asked himself just before he reached for his own gun. He shot Rusty once before his cousin had even cleared leather. Rusty looked down at the hole in his chest then back up at Johnny. His gun went off into the floor and then he fell in a heap. "We didn't kill him," Johnny said softly, as if Rusty could still hear him.

"Johnny, look out!" Johnny was so stunned by the voice that by the time he'd turned around to see Andria Lee standing in the doorway, Jame had already got his gun out and was aiming it right at him. He wouldn't have enough time to bring his own gun up. He looked once at Andria then closed his eyes. There was a shot but he felt nothing, he was glad he was going this way, no pain.

But then he opened his eyes and saw Jame crumpled up on the floor next to his brother and Varick standing over them, his gun still smoking. Andria had moved farther into the room, her face very pale, and Johnny was only just able to jump over the bodies of his dead cousins to catch her before she fainted.

"Varick," he said tucking her tightly into his arms. Varick had stepped back away from the crowd of men that had gathered around the two Lees. "Thanks." Varick nodded and Johnny hurried away towards the hotel. Wes and Olivia met him in the lobby and led him to a back room.

"Oh, Johnny!" Olivia cried helping him lay the girl on the bed. "What happened?"

"Aunt Olivia, Uncle Wes," Johnny sighed. "I'm terribly sorry, but Rusty and Jame are dead." At the news Olivia herself almost fainted away.

"No!" Wes gasped. "How?"

"They were angry about something and picked a fight with me. Rusty drew on me. I had no choice."

"You-you mean, you killed them?" Olivia's gasps turned to chocked sobs.

"I killed Rusty; Varick shot Jame before he could kill me. Please believe me, Aunt Olive, if there had been any other way."

"It's all right son," Wes said in a haggard voice. "Those boys were always hot under the collars, thinking they were somethin' with those guns an' everything."

"I told them not to wear them!" Olivia wailed.

"Andria!" Wes said suddenly. "What happened to her?"

"Oh, don't worry, Wes," Johnny assured him. "She only fainted. She'll wake up soon. It was a nasty…shock." Even as he said it Johnny had the sinking feeling that it wasn't true. He remembered the conversation he'd overheard the night before. "You know who to bring?" the man had said.

"Aunt Olivia, Uncle Wes," he cried. "I'm really awfully sorry, but I've got to get back to the ranch right away. I've gotta get my brothers back up here."

"All right, son," Wes said absentmindedly, trying to comfort his wife.

As he hurried outside, Johnny mentally kicked himself. Now that it had actually happened it all made perfect sense. He'd thought that Andria was to bring the victim to town when in fact it was him she was supposed to bring. In trying to save a life he'd caused a death.

Hurrying past the crowd around the saloon he quickly made his way back to his wagon. Just before he hopped in he was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. He slowly turned around to find the hand attached to the arm of Swin Baker.

"May I help you?" he asked civilly and removed the sheriff's hand.

"Yeah, I understand you were part of the gunfight in the saloon."

"Yes, me, Varick Braden, and Rusty and Jame Lee."

"Would you mind telling me just where you are going?"

"Back to the ranch to get my brothers. Look, Sheriff, I'm in a hurry. Have you already talked to Braden?"

"Yes."

"Then you know the story. I shot Rusty in self defense and Varick shot Jame to save me. I don't think you have any grounds to hold me."

"You're right, I don't. All right, go back and get your brothers. But I want you back in town by sunset. This makes three deaths since your arrival."

Johnny stared hard at the sheriff before stepping up into the wagon. "Not deaths, Sheriff. I think all three were murders. And I mean to find out who's behind them all."

Before the sheriff could say a word, Johnny picked up the reins and started the horses off at a quick trot then quickly moved them up to a gallop. The sheriff watched him until he was out of sight.


End file.
